


i stumbled into your arms

by tori_lawrence



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mute Ryan Haywood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 07:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23847799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tori_lawrence/pseuds/tori_lawrence
Relationships: Ryan Haywood/Ray Narvaez Jr.
Kudos: 11





	i stumbled into your arms

Wake up. Turn over. Throw arm out, bed’s cold. Where is he?  
Wake up. Sit up. Look around. Where is he?  
Wake up. Hungry. Kitchen, breakfast, check phone… nothing…  
Where is he?  
Nothing to do but wait. Go check supplies. Good on munitions, wait. Low on sniper rounds. Low being a relative term in their business.  
Where is he?  
He should’ve been back hours ago, or he at least should’ve called. Texted. Anything.  
Where are you?  
Are you okay? Kidnapped? Arrested?  
Killed?  
The sun goes up the same as it goes down, slowly… antagonizing. As he sits, counting and recounting supplies, checking news reports, hacking CCTV, Ray can’t help but think the worst. He is completely justified. Whenever either of them goes out, it’s a gamble on whether or not they will be returning home. But he promised, he promised, he’d never leave Ray alone without warning. As the night comes, Ray becomes increasingly worried, as the night tends to be a lot more dangerous. Living on the shitty side of Los Santos is unsafe, but unassuming. Darkness falls to the soundtrack of distant police sirens, yelling and screaming, and gunshots. It’s not unusual or uncomfortable to sit within these sounds. But it’s unsettling without the person who keeps him safe and sane. Ray draws the curtains back ever so slightly just to look out and gaze upon the skyline, eyes settling on the buildings that grow taller and taller as they expand toward the horizon. He retreats, closes the curtains, and slips underneath soft, cold sheets. The bed shouldn’t be this cold. Ray’s head hits the pillow and stares at the wall, as if waiting for it to speak word of wisdom to him, but that’s a lot to ask of a wall. He drifts slowly into hazy visions of dreams, blurring the line of consciousness, all disrupted by the front door of the apartment being roughly pushed open and the doorknob banging a hole into the drywall. Ray hears the door slam closed again and a large thunk against it as he reaches under the pillow for his pistol. He checks the clip, rises quickly from the bed, and presses his back against the door way, both hands on the gun as it is pulled to his chest. A steady finger is placed on the trigger as he listens. Heavy steps thud unevenly against the floor, metal clanks against the floor as glass shatters. Ray suspects cutlery and dishes have been swiped off of the kitchen island. He turns the corner of the bedroom doorway into the hallway, arms outstretched, gun firmly pointed forward, ready to aim and fire. He makes his way down the hall, one shoulder firmly pressed to the wall, making sure not to hit any creaky floorboards or trip over his own feet. The entranceway comes into view and the first thing he can comprehend is the blood pooling on the floor. Next, his brain recognizes the looming figure hunched over itself, one hand clutching at the island countertop. Panic rises in Ray as a dark skull slowly looks up at him, blood clearly running down the figure’s neck from inside of the mask.  
“V?” Ray prods cautiously. The bright blue gaze softens as they lock eyes, and Ray recognizes the smile in his eyes.  
“Oh my god, Ryan!” Ray drops the pistol to the floor and rushes to Ryan’s side. He catches him as his hand slips from the countertop and gently falls to the ground with him. Ray lifts the mask from his head and blood stained blonde locks fall upon heavy breathing shoulders. Ray puts his hand against Ryan’s cheek and nudges his face to look into his eyes. Dark bruises have begun to form around Ryan’s eyes,blood comes from his nose and lip, mixing with saliva and sweat as it runs down his face and onto his neck. Tears flood Ray’s eyes as worry and relief and fear swell into one giant symphony of emotions inside of Ray’s head. Ray finally pries his eyes away from Ryan’s to look down and check the rest of the bloody form laying on the floor with him. He notices a bullet hole resting in the side of Ryan’s gut and a swollen ankle that must have been the cause of the complication Ryan experienced entering the apartment. Ray stands up and gently, slowly coaxes Ryan into a semi standing position so he can lead him to the bathroom. Ryan collapses into the bathtub and Ray goes to retrieve the med kit from the cabinet under the sink. He grabs a washcloth and shoves it into Ryan’s mouth as he opens the rubbing alcohol and pours it onto his bullet wound. Ryan’s other injuries can wait as Ray reaches around underneath Ryan to feel if there is an exit wound. His hand runs against smooth skin and he retracts it to get to work on removing the bullet from its place nestled in Ryan’s abdomen. Ray pours alcohol on his fingers and goes to reach into Ryan’s flesh to retrieve the bullet, glancing at Ryan before he does just to make sure he’s okay. Ryan gives a slight nod and Ray plunges his fingers into warm flesh, feeling around for a solidness alien to the human anatomy. He feels the hunk of metal, grasps it in between his thumb and forefinger, and pulls it out. He grabs the alcohol, pours more over the wound, and presses a washcloth to Ryan’s skin to try and slow the new onslaught of blood flow. Ray threads the needle and proceeds to sew up the wound with care, making sure each suture is parallel to the last. He puts clean bandages over the fresh stitches and goes back to the kit to retrieve the emergency painkillers. Thank god for hydrocodone. He hands the pills to Ryan along with a glass of tap water from the bathroom sink. Ray kneels beside the tub and watches as Ryan takes the pills and downs the glass of water. He slumps against the wall and to Ryan’s, and to his own, surprise, Ray starts laughing. Maybe it’s the stress, or relief, or maybe just plain stupidity, but eventually, Ryan laughs too. It hurts him, but feels good at the same time, like the tension of the situation has finally dissipated around them. Ray looks up into Ryan’s eyes, and Ryan mouths Ray’s favorite words to him.  
I love you.


End file.
